


vicious

by jbaecob



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Dom/sub Undertones, Handcuffs, M/M, Open Relationships, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, kinda.., now i'll know how it feels to have PORN as my first work in a tag, stan oneus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbaecob/pseuds/jbaecob
Summary: youngjo was the one who kissed him good-bye with his hand on the doorknob that time, ready to enter head in through weeks of heavy work and studies and sparing random, tiny, sporadic times to spend with gunhak.gunhak was just getting his revenge.





	vicious

**Author's Note:**

> if you're here, you have total consciouness that this is mostly (not really graphic) porn, right. okay. i don't have much to say other than that this was a RIDE, because i kinda lost my original text (...tumblr) and somehow i was able to rewrite it and like it enough to post here so... enjoy. <3

"take it off," youngjo asks, handcuffed, taunting, lowly. gunhak knows what he's talking about, listens carefully as the metal tingles under youngjo's impatient weight; instead of granting his wishes, he presses his hand a bit more. youngjo is fully clothed and begging, "gunnie. please." and he's totally entranced by the way youngjo whimpers as he denies his wish and fingers at the hard lines of the jeans, so slowly that himself gets annoyed by it.

"why?" he asks, not really ready to look up to youngjo but doing it anyway - regretting this moment so greatly, being judged by youngjo's deep gaze and half opened mouth.

"please." there's an undertone that screams despair in his voice, but gunhak see how he schools it to look cooler than it really is. he murmurs, "it's not gonna take too long, love." youngjo closes his eyes and hisses when gunhak touches his groin again, skilled fingers getting nearly blocked by the rough piece of cloth, that he uses to make youngjo whimper a little. youngjo is truly a complaining type of person; of course that gunhak would want to see it everytime they get together. youngjo knows it. he sees it dripping from his eyes, almost in time with the tears that pools from it, ready to fall at any given time. gunhak comes closer, watching as youngjo watches him, and glues his lips against the other's ear.

"it's okay," he mumbles, and his hand matches the pace of his voice as he goes on, "just want to hear you." and youngjo absentmindedly gives it, shaking slightly, panting from the exertion. gunhak expects to hear another full sentence coming from him, but his slurry voice comes in too weak, "please," though his hands are agitated. "i can't do it," he shakes his head, "gunnie, please." gunhak nibbles at his neck, keeping in mind that if that took too far, youngjo would snap at him later.

"you're fine," youngjo gasped, "you're perfect, love." his hand was touching every place it could from where he was placed, every little corner - without entering the jeans, much less his underwear, that he could see it was dark, peeking slightly from the pants, but didn't even pay attention to it. youngjo wasn't quiet solely because he didn't give up yet, but his pleas were getting rarer and rarer, giving space to a series of hiccups that gunhak suspected that came from a more impatient side of him. he knew them all, all the sides. he knew all too well that if he asked youngjo to beg a little more, he would do it (maybe not purely because gunhak was asking, but also because he feels how it works just fine to his arousal filled mind).

gunhak grips hard, feigning recklessness, and the sound that leaves youngjo's throat would make him writhe in embarrassment in another context - in this one, it makes gunhak himself beg inside his head to be released too. he continues to touch him without caring too much for timed spurs of sensibility or so; he follows youngjo's body, follows the way his hips start to tremble, follows his voice getting higher and more hoarse than it already was, too concentrated on the little cries to notice that youngjo wasn't pleading anymore (because he was unconsciously giving it all). then, he stops. not abruptly nor cruelly, but his movements get softer and sporadic to be able to hear one specific thing.

youngjo sniffs a broken " _gunhak_." his hand is still there, reddened and tired too, and he beams at the full name. he knows him too well. youngjo has his eyes closed, so he takes his time to wriggle nearer than he already was. "i just wanted to hear you a beg little more," he reasoned, whispering, puckered lips giving youngjo a smooch he didn't ask for. "soon you are gonna be the one begging," he snaps too early, because gunhak is still the one in charge. although he knows that he would be more than able to do that in another circumstance, he lets youngjo complain again, helpless. he sobs, "i already said i can't." gunhak traces the hard line of the jeans with one finger, "please." he opens his eyes. his deep, brown eyes, in that moment not filled with rage or mischief, tardy with the tears. gunhak can say no, and he's about to.

"gunnie. _gunnie_ ," youngjo forces his wrists out of the handcuffs, lost mind forgetting that it's impossible, and the only one that could free him from it was gunhak. he hums. it's a pleased one, he wouldn't lie; and even if youngjo is too tired to glare at him for it, he knows too. "gunhak," he tries one more time. the other decides to comply, maybe shaken by the way that youngjo's voice wave stronger than it did before, signaling that he was about to give up (gunhak wouldn't do that. even if he relishes on the image he gives off that moment, messy black hair, sweaty neck and pretty wrists taken by the metal, there's a line he doesn't feel like crossing right now).

youngjo certainly doesn't deserve it, but gunhak gets ready to give it to him anyway. he urges to hear him moan with his mouth open, suddenly not giving a damn about eventual neighbors or the rest of the world that wasn't inside that room. but he gives it partially, of course. just when youngjo was giving a final, pained attempt, his hand resumed the work and youngjo's expression was priceless. he cried, shaking his arms and legs slightly, with a dawning sense of anticipation making him shrink more than necessary.

"you're doing well, love," he mutters. youngjo whimpers, previsible, eyes falling shut as gunhak increases the pace and the grip doesn't falter. he stays attentive, searching, so engrossed in his task that he forgets he wasn't trying to give it all to him primarily, but now it's too late.

now youngjo gasps and holds his hips up, he groans frustrated and the tears runs down to his cheeks and disappears in the line of his hair. gunhak gives and gives, until youngjo's body halts a few times, his usually calculated honeyed tone lost in the mess of a dry throat that gunhak was guilty for. he rides down an orgasm that would be immensely more appreciated if given earlier, but gunhak was the one controlling it and he was trying to teach him a lesson. when he stops looking at the way youngjo’s body shakes tiredly, staring from the ruined pants to his glinting face in that darkened room, he sees youngjo's eyes falling shut. other than that, he captures, along with the difficult breathing, a line on his lips that wasn't there a few minutes ago; the raven haired one was pouting, beautifully molded lips quivering plump and abused by the hard bites the owner himself gave. gunhak sighs contently, only stopping himself from directly coming to poke on his face to clean his hand.

he reaches for the nightstand to grab the key to free youngjo's hands from the metal object, now seeing how his arms were probably too tired by that time. it was a session longer than both of them expected, even if gunhak was planning to get a proper revenge for a long time. since youngjo didn't say his safe word, gunhak admittedly forgot about the way his arms had to be upholding almost half of the other's weight in the way they liked to play. he secured both wrists in one gentle hand, hurriedly unlocking the handcuffs and putting them away. youngjo sighed but didn't open his eyes, not even to thank him. gunhak couldn't be more delighted; if is there a reason to be mad about, may it be from sexual frustration.

after releasing him from his particular hell, he crowds youngjo, careful not to infuriate him with the touches too scattered, too fond. he takes his face in his hands and coos, noticing the way he frowns while gunhak takes his time cleaning tears stains and trying to smooth his lips. tracing the skin slowly, he starts absentmindedly praising youngjo, from an aspect to another, but his face stays still, his breathing even - pout still visible. before hoping out of the bed to start cleaning their mess, he kisses his cheek with a lingering hum. when he comes back, wet towel and a  cup of water in hands, youngjo is looking at him with pointed eyes. he struggles to pull those pants and underwear down (alone, because youngjo was all about judging him and drinking his water in between impatient tugs instead of helping), only to be stopped a few moments later by a hand on his wrist.

he looks at youngjo without alarm, and maybe that's what makes his eyes glint more than necessary. youngjo talks so endearingly in the aftermath that gunhak takes two long seconds to comprehend what he's implying when the words, "one month." leave his mouth. gunhak stops rubbing his hips with the towel, "what?"

then, youngjo leaves it as it is, giving his droopy eyes a break from looking at gunhak's disbelieving face. he can't be serious, can he? this night was supposed to be gunhak's revenge from one that happened ages ago, and only now he was able to fully appreciate the feeling of despair dripping from the other's eyes (truth to be told, he went soft and was more than open to grant youngjo his moaned wishes; there was no consentaneous opinion, since one could agree that he was properly avenged when other could totally (and rightfully) disagree).

youngjo had been a giggly mess, a dazzling one, when he left gunhak tied in, denied, hot, bothered and furious until he wasn't hard anymore. youngjo was the one who kissed him good-bye with his hand on the doorknob that time, ready to enter head in through weeks of heavy work and studies and sparing random, tiny, sporadic times to spend with gunhak, that were filled with quick sex and little to no foreplay, no fun.

one fucking month?

he collected the towel, discarded the clothes on the ground (just to piss him off) and on his way to leave the wet towel and the cup, he brought a clean short. his head was spinning though, youngjo's beautiful voice turning sultry and dangerously playful as the words "one month" kept replaying in his mind.

even if he was aware that there was nothing holding them back when it came to meeting other people (be them new or not), he couldn't. he may never be able to admit it out loud, to youngjo's face, holding his covert gaze with determination - but there's no other. "why's that?" he asks, not really caring to sound controlled and calm when he was all but that. youngjo turned his back to him because they both knew he was about to cuddle his way into an apology. wasn't it always like that? bites and blows kind of relationship that needed a little more than just pure sexual tension to survive - youngjo was the one who said that they both could run into other arms and stay there until an uncalled longing pulled them back again; only that he was also the first to neglect gunhak when he felt like, even if they both knew that there wasn't another presence so strong it could keep them apart. gunhak knew that. youngjo, more than anyone, knew that.  

"because i said so, love." gunhak was suddenly so glad that they weren't making eye contact or else he wouldn't know how to acknowledge the fact that youngjo was so plainly, so flatly making fun of the pet name he liked so much (mainly because youngjo himself was the one to blush adorably the first time he said it). perhaps he was only relishing on his ability to lose his composure first - gunhak's so livid that he doesn't even care if he's still furiously hard against the fabric of his underwear -; youngjo didn't have the right to impose something like that. "good night, gunnie." 

"wait- does it start now?" but instead of stating it with words, youngjo turns fully to him and seems to be studying the question. he looks absolutely gorgeous, but gunhak refrains himself from saying that. he looks at him through his eyelashes (a coward move) and shrinks enough to fit into arms that gunhak unconsciously opens; it's the answer to the question and, momentarily, they have nothing more to think about than to enjoy the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> i've been talking about (and listening to) oneus and ateez a lot, so if you wanna scream about them!!!! talk to me!!! i plan to post another leevn soon (i totally felt like calling them leevn because no one calls them anything as far as i'm concerned) :B 
> 
> twt @ O9RAVN | ccat @ sangjcob


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